


A Roll of the Dice

by lnhammer



Category: Liáo zhāi zhì yì | Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio - Pú Sōnglíng
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Chromatic Source, Chromatic Yuletide, Combative Courtship, Don't Have to Know Canon, F/M, M/M, Martial Arts Clothing, Original Character(s), Poetry, Swordplay, Sworn Brothers, Wuxia, fox spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lnhammer/pseuds/lnhammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a winter storm in a mountain pass above Xi'an, Chang'an that was, two sworn brothers have a strange encounter with three beautiful sisters.</p>
<p>"I would be delighted if master consented to exchange a few stances with this unworthy student."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Roll of the Dice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quillori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/gifts).



When my grandfather was a child, near Yizhou there was a family named Wang of once prosperous farmers that fell on hard times, in part due to the farmer's spendthrift habits. Wang's oldest son took after his father, preferring drinking and fighting to plowing and reaping, but his younger son worked hard to make up for it and had done much to repair their family's standing by the time their father died. After their father was buried and all the rites observed, the older Wang sold his inheritance to his brother, saying their family's fortune should go to one who would do justice by it. With this money, Wang bought a sword, intending to wander "the rivers and lakes" in search of adventure and a fortune of his own.

He spent several years traveling up and down the Yellow River, practicing his sword skills and guarding merchants. In time he fell in with a fellow named Liu in the same line of work. They worked well together and became very close, going so far as to become sworn brothers. As partners, their reputation rose faster than when alone, and they became known in that part of the world for fighting hard and honorably while on a job and, after they had been paid off, for drinking hard and spiritedly until their money ran out -- for they shared equally in all they made.

One autumn, they escorted a retired official home to his ancestral estate in western Shaanxi. After they were paid off handsomely, with a bonus for defeating two separate bands of bandits, they found themselves in a small town with little to entertain them and small prospects for employment -- for given the lateness of the season, it was unlikely any merchants would pass through till spring. Liu was inclined to remain anyway, arguing that drinking with his brother was good enough, but Wang convinced him they should first go east to Xi'an, or at least get over a few mountain ranges to someplace large enough they could carouse to their heart's content if they got trapped for the winter. And so after a single night's binge in the town's sole tavern, they set off.

Days later, as they toiled up the road into yet another high pass between mountains wrapped in clouds, Liu started to complain. "Why did I let you talk me into going? Even without sing-song girls, we could have had a grand time at the next market town -- just you and me having fun with each other." Wang was used to his brother's grumblings and knew that when they arrived in Xi'an he'd be happier for the grand theaters and rich pavilions, so he said nothing, only continued to walk on. As they climbed higher, however, black clouds rolled over them and cold wind gusted, and Wang wondered whether it had been a bad idea to continue on in the face of an early winter storm.

But with neither way-station nor mountain-hut in sight, there was nothing for it but to push on through the gale and snow, Liu muttering all the while. Even so, when darkness began to cloak the road, they had yet to reach the top and were forced to stop in the broken shelter of fallen boulders they found just off the way. Because they both knew how to circulate their internal energy, they were in no real danger from merely this much cold, at least for a short time, but neither one was of such a level that he could continue circulation while asleep. So they took turns through the night keeping watch while holding his sleeping brother close to warm him.

Around daybreak the howling wind quieted and the snow stopped falling, and when they threw off their laden blankets the wilderness spread before them was "a sculpture of dazzling white." The snow was deep enough, there was no sign which way the road lay, and the brothers disagreed which way to turn -- Liu pointing one way, Wang another. Liu grinned and, following their usual method for settling their disagreements, pulled out his dice cup. Wang won the cast and they started towards the trees he thought he recognized from the night before, even under their thick white coats. The snow was deeper than expected, especially where it had drifted, but using their light-body skill, they barely sank into it.

They had gone no more than a few dozen paces when a young woman appeared before them, dressed warmly against the cold. From what Wang could see under her furs, she was even more beautiful than the glittering snow -- more beautiful indeed than any girl in Xi'an.

The brothers glanced at each other, and bowed as one to her. "Good lady," cried Wang, who was better at speaking with women he didn't know, "we are two travelers who have lost the road. If you could direct our unworthy footsteps, and perhaps grant us a morsel to eat, we would be eternally grateful."

She covered her mouth to laugh, a sound like icicles striking a frozen lake. "Our hut is tiny, but you are welcome to warm yourselves inside it."

"Good lady," Wang replied, "lead and we will follow you anywhere."

She bowed and turned around, taking them around the grove of trees behind her. While Liu merely noticed that her movements were graceful, Wang saw that her footprints went no deeper into the snow than theirs. On the other side of the grove, they found a hut, cleverly hidden within the shelter of pines and cypress trees -- there was even space for a tiny garden with a frozen-over pool. If they had not been led to it, they would have never stumbled upon it on their own.

Inside, they were met by two more young women, with not a servant in sight. They found that without her winter coat their guide was as slender and beautiful as anticipated. She introduced herself as An-e, and then named her two younger sisters. Yue-ching, the middle sister, was as tall and slender as her older sibling, with skin even more white and a lively disposition. Shu-e, however, had a round face and the most delicate smile of the three -- she did not, however, rise to greet their guests but stayed huddled next to the charcoal brazier.

"Winters are hard for her, poor dear," Yue-ching confided to the brothers, for which An-e chided her.

"They do not need to know such things. Come, let our guests warm themselves while we prepare tea and rice." The two older sisters swept from the room, while the brothers settled themselves by the brazier, across from Shu-e.

Though in truth, the room was warm and the brothers were comfortable in just their traveling clothes. The youngest sister, Wang thought, must be especially susceptible to the cold. He talked with her about their journey, though the conversation was slow -- she took a few seconds to think about his words before replying, which gave her a serious air that Wang found attractive, different as it was from that of the sort of girls found in taverns. If he had met her after a week of carousing, he would have done no more than bowed before moving on, but she was here, now, and he was intrigued.

Liu stayed quiet, ostentatiously warming his hands at the brazier and looking around the room. He seemed especially taken with two paintings hung facing each other on opposite walls.

After about the time it takes to cook rice, Shu-e was called into the other room to help. She excused herself prettily, though her reluctance to leave the brazier was obvious. Standing, it was clear she was shorter than her sisters but Wang couldn't tell whether she was, under her heavy robes, as stout as her round face suggested.

As soon as they were alone, Liu leaned close to Wang and whispered, "Brother, we are in danger -- these ladies are not human."

Because he was a grown man, Wang did not roll his eyes, but he was nearly tempted to. "Of course not. But since we know this and are on our guard, we should come to no harm."

"But brother -- "

"Besides," Wang said, "what kind of spirits do you suppose they are?"

"Foxes," Liu said immediately.

Wang pursed his lips. "An-e might be, but surely Yue-ching is a benign ghost."

Liu's eyes went wide, but then he grinned. "I'll wager she isn't!"

Wang grinned back. "You're on."

The sisters returned, bearing a repast -- for despite their protestation that they had but a few bites to eat, they had prepared a full meal. Though there was little meat and no rich delicacies, the dishes were seasoned well with a balance of flavors, and the wine was of the best quality. The brothers thanked them and, because it had been a full day since they had last eaten, set to in earnest.

While they ate, the brothers and sisters talked and laughed, with Wang, An-e, and Yue-ching speaking the most. Liu soon warmed to the women, however, and every now and then, Shu-e would say something brief but witty and to the point.

Now Liu had been the youngest son of a scholar and had been sent to school to follow in the footsteps of his father and older brothers. It was only after he failed the district exam for the second time that he took to "the rivers and lakes." As such, he had more learning than most wanderers of their class but rarely had a chance to show it off. After a while, he asked about the two paintings he had been looking at earlier.

"Oh, they are nothing," Yue-ching said. "But what do you think of them?"

"The scenery of the lake is fine," he said, indicating the scroll behind Shu-e, "and the poem with it is even finer. But the forested peak of the other appeals to me more. If I had to chose between them, I'd say the mountain is the better picture and the lake has the better words."

Both An-e and Shu-e blushed, and Yue-ching laughed. "Truly, you are a gallant man, praising each of my sisters equally." For the paintings were the work of the two young ladies.

Liu made a toast to the artists, especially to An-e, the painter of the mountains. An-e tittered behind her hand then recited the following couplet:

> Three pines bend in the constant wind,  
>  A pair of clouds fly over the ridge.

Liu smiled and matched it with one of his own:

> One spirit haunts the empty garden,  
>  None watch the stream flow past the bridge.

While the girls laughed, Wang puzzled over his brother's words -- the flirtatious intent of the first couplet was obvious, even to him, but he was not learnéd enough to understand how the second was a response.

Then Yue-ching recited:

> Late flowers scatter near harvested fields,  
>  Fine incense rising from a tomb.

Again, Liu matched it:

> Spring grasses sprout by barren woods,  
>  Sweet perfume spreading from each bloom.

As soon as he finished, Shu-e recited:

> Seepwater trickles over green moss --  
>  Slowly, slowly, the still lake fills.

This gave Liu pause, but after a minute's thought, he replied:

> A barge-pole enters into clear water --  
>  Together, together: two boats, two hills.

To which everyone laughed -- Shu-e as much as the rest of them.

Then the three sisters together wrote a poem, which An-e recited:

> Beneath the pines, beside a sheltered lake,  
>  With open door a welcome hut awaits.  
>  A flicking tail, the fox ducks down a hole --  
>  With beating wings, the dove darts to its mate.  
>  The wine is warming on the gentle fire,  
>  The zither, freshly tuned, now lies in state.  
>  However long it takes you to arrive,  
>  I will remain here, knowing it's our fate.

It took Liu but a little while to write a response in harmony with it:

> Along the riverside where willows trail  
>  A woman tunes her lute strings while she waits.  
>  One maid puts up a pole, adjusts the shade,  
>  Another sets a meal: plum wine and dates.  
>  Lute set aside, the woman slowly sighs --  
>  Pavilion empty, someone is too late.  
>  At last a horseman gallops up, dismounts,  
>  But pours out words in vain -- such is fate!

The sisters applauded, agreeing that was a worthy response, and even Wang appreciated how his brother had paired their serious gentleman with a comic courtesan.

After serving another round of food and refilling their cups, Yue-ching said, "Surely Gentleman Wang also has talents that he can share with us."

Wang blushed in turn, for while he could play the flute somewhat, the songs he knew were suitable only for a winehouse and the sort of women one paid for their company -- _not_ cultured ladies who flirted with fine verses. "Oh no, I'm no gentleman," he protested. "I am just what I seem to be, a simple wanderer who survives using a few skills I picked up, here and there."

"Please show us," Yue-ching pleaded.

"I couldn't," Wang said, waving her off.

An-e stood up and bowed to him, clasping her fist in her hand. "I would be delighted if master consented to exchange a few stances with this unworthy student."

Now ordinarily, Wang wouldn't even consider fighting a woman, not unless she attacked him at the head of a gang of bandits. But he had seen An-e's footsteps in the snow and knew she had some light-body skill -- and was curious to find out what further training she'd had. While most of his studies had been with a sword, he knew a few moves using an open fist, which would be more suitable for a practice match with a lady. So he stood and bowed in return.

As they cleared a space for their bout, Wang noticed through the gaps in the window shutter that, in the day's bright sunlight, the nearby trees had shed their loads of snow. As soon as they finished, he thought, it should be safe to continue on their way.

Then he and An-e faced each other and bowed. Liu, who had agreed to officiate, called out, "Ten stances!" Wang entered a defensive stance, one fist high, the other low, and started to circulate his energy.

After waiting a breath, An-e waved her sleeve. Despite being on his guard, Wang was startled by the speed of the attack and barely avoided getting his arm tangled in it. An-e immediately waved her arm again, and it was as if her sleeves were everywhere. Wang could only faint to the west and dodge to the east to get away from them. It was like fighting a man armed with two whips.

Finally, though, Wang saw an opening: with his right hand he deflected her right sleeve past his side, and stepped forward to strike her. Now it was her turn to evade, ducking and weaving. Unable to touch her, he nonetheless stayed close as possible so she could not attack with her sleeves, and loosed a chain of three strikes in a row. An-e bent this way and that, like a branch whipping in the wind. At last, though, she countered with an attack at the same moment as he, so that they blocked each other's fist. Her forearm was filled with astonishing internal energy and it felt to Wang like he had struck solid wood.

"Ten!" Liu called out, ending their bout.

Wang and An-e looked into each other's eyes a moment, then stepped back and bowed. Liu declared their match a draw, and looking at her sparkling smile and flushed face, Wang didn't think An-e had wanted to stop any more than he had. With moves like hers, definitely not a fox.

"My turn!" Yue-ching declared, and from a chest to one side of the room she pulled out a sword.

After some discussion, Liu ruled that she and Wang must fence with swords sheathed, and if either stepped outside the circle he marked out on the floor, that person would forfeit. As it was, Wang thought there was not enough space with the hut. And yet, even though the snow had all but melted in the small garden, the ground was still too wet for a friendly fight -- so inside it must be.

He and Yue-ching faced each other and bowed. They both took defensive stances, and when Liu called out, "Begin!" Wang immediately stuck using the "Morning Star Rises" technique. Their swords _thunked_ as her sheath met his, and without a pause she counter-attacked.

Her style was unorthodox and her techniques almost entirely hard, striking straight and swift. The strangeness of her moves was not, in itself, a problem for Wang: while he and Liu had learned a thing or two from a Shaolin master who'd consented to teach them a couple moves, their own style was very much catch-as-catch-can. After a few rounds trading blow for blow, Yue-ching suddenly feinted high but struck low, a tricky attack that Wang only barely countered head on. Her next few moves also included feints that aimed somewhere other than the place she actually struck. Wang parried them all without shifting from his place.

Just as he had gotten used to this new rhythm, Yue-ching changed again: a swift thrust straight ahead, faster than any she'd made yet. Wang smiled, for he had been waiting for just such a move. Instead of parrying, he used the "Circling the Charging Bull" technique, an entirely soft move where he slipped to one side and deflected her past him -- and out of the ring.

"Out!" Liu called out.

As An-e and Shu-e applauded, Yue-ching bowed to her victor -- then broke into a laugh. "A good trick! I must remember that one."

"You are too kind," Wang said as he bowed in return, but he was smiling as well. No, this one was no more a ghost than her older sister was a fox. If anything, the movements of her body had been even more bewitching.

Liu offered his brother a victory cup of wine, but before he could take it, Shu-e shed her outer robes and stepped forward, showing her empty hands. She was indeed as stout as her face suggested, but her movements were those of someone with profound energies. Wang licked his lips, tossed back the cup, and stepped forward to meet her. Without a word, they bowed to each other. After a moment, she smiled.

Liu called out, "Ten stances!"

From her build and her demeanor, Wang had expected her style to be like the earth, like a stone. Instead, she flowed into a stance he recognized as orthodox Tai-Chi, which she held easily, still as the surface of untouched pond. He raised his fists and built up his internal energy as high as he could, circulating it throughout his arms and legs. They stood still for several breaths, watching each other, waiting.

Finally Wang attacked with chained strikes, the first hard, the next soft. Shu-e evaded the first as he intended, but flowed into the second. Before he could react, she had caught his arm and he felt himself flying -- up and over, around and down, to _thud_ on his back by her feet.

"Out!" Liu called out.

Shu-e looked down in Wang's eyes, still holding his arm with a smile. Wang caught his breath, which had been knocked out by his fall, and smiled back. As she helped him up, he couldn't help thinking that if only Liu found a woman as good as this one, the four together could _really_ make a name for themselves in the world. Then he reminded himself, she'd need to be a _mortal_ woman.

He bowed to his victor and said, "Thank you for this lesson, O flower of chivalry."

She giggled, a low sound like single drops falling into a full basin, and bowed in return.

By this time, yellow light was slanting through the trees and the afternoon sun settling in the west. It had been long enough since their first meal that the sisters insisted on serving them another. As they left the room, Wang collapsed by his brother and accepted from him a consolatory cup of wine. After he drained it and the follow-up toast, he leaned close and whispered, "We should leave."

Liu looked at him skeptically, eyes bright and face flushed. "What, now?"

"As soon as we've eaten."

"It'll be dark by then. Let's give it one more night to let the roads clear completely."

"The ... 'roads'," Wang said, voice deadpan.

Liu smiled. "And other ... passages."

Wang was tempted, for any one of the three sisters would be a delight to sleep with. But he also knew, now more than ever, how dangerous they might be. Then he grinned and reached for the dice cup at Liu's belt.

Liu won the cast just as the sisters returned with a meal even more delicious than the first.

After the dishes were cleared away and the wine pot topped up, Yue-ching sang a song in the flickering lamp-light, accompanied by An-e on the flute. It was from a drama, the sort that Wang didn't really like and never went to, and he found himself only half-listening. But one line caught his attention, about the ducks pairing off two by two -- and Wang at last noticed that they had a problem: here, they were two and three.

Now ordinarily Liu and Wang, brothers as they were, didn't mind sharing women. Indeed, their favorite pastime, when they had the money for it, was to take two girls up to their room and swap them bout for bout. But these young ladies -- they were not that class of girl. If the passageways became clear, they would have to chose one each and stay with her -- leaving one the odd one out. But how to explain this to Liu, in front of the others, without accidentally offended anyone?

Suddenly he thought of a way. When the next song ended, he said, "Hey, do you know the tune that goes," and he hummed a children's song from Shangdong. As he hoped, it was unknown here in Shaanxi. So he sang it for them -- a counting-out song, used to chose the ogre for a game of tag or hide-and-seek. When he got down to the words "three" and "two," he heavily stressed them, looking at Liu as he did so -- and then again on "one," he looked at the sisters in turn.

When he was done, Liu looked from them to Wang, and then chuckled -- message received. The sisters looked at each other as well, and then nodded at the brothers -- passage cleared.

"Surely," An-e said, smiling at Wang, "there's a more grown-up way to choose."

As one, Liu and Wang reached for the dice cup, and the sisters laughed.

Liu held out the cup to Wang, who accepted it. He smiled at An-e, Yue-ching, and Shu-e as he counted out their numbers, and then stopped. No, he realized, he knew which sister he wanted. They were all attractive and strong, but one had more mystery than the others. He put the cup down, embraced his brother, and shifted over to sit next to Shu-e. She smiled shyly and looked down, but took his hand when he offered it.

Liu instead made a production of it -- giving An-e and Yue-ching their choice of numbers, flirting with both in turn. Finally, after letting Yue-ching blow on the dice for luck, he rolled. Yue-ching won, or he won Yue-ching, and the middle sister pounced into his arms.

To celebrate, Yue-ching sang another song as Liu lay with his head in her lap, again accompanied by An-e's flute. Again, Wang found himself not paying attention. On the other hand, when he put his arm around Shu-e, she resisted, and kept glancing at her sisters even as she smiled at him. Finally, he realized that she was shy, like a proper young lady, and whispered in her ear, "Why don't you show me your garden?"

She blushed more prettily than ever and led him outside.

Though the sun was down, the evening had only just started to chill -- and indeed, it was warm enough that the grounds were completely cleared, and it was hard to believe that just that morning it had been blanketed with snow. The garden itself was small, as was said before, but beautifully planned. A single path coiled around a ornamental lotus pool sheltered beneath sweeping pine branches, while beds of dormant iris and peonies lay on either side. By the pool was a small bench, of a size where two can sit together only if they are very well acquainted -- which Wang and Shu-e proceeded to become. After acquaintance came friendship, and from there came "kisses and sighs."

Afterwards they lay together beside the pool, with Shu-e's heavy robes as bed and blanket both. As Wang drifted off, holding her in his arms, he thought he saw An-e stand over them and whisper to her sister, "I'll be here." And then he was asleep.

Wang dreamed that it was morning, and he was sitting beside the pool looking at Shu-e as she stood naked in the water amid the green lotus leaves. Birds were singing in the branches, and the fragrance of flowers wafted on the dawn breeze.

"Thank you for last night," she said.

"Who -- who are you?" he asked.

"I am the spirit of the lotus that grows within this spring. I was dormant for the winter when you arrived, which is why I didn't speak much at first."

"And your sisters?"

"An-e is the spirit of this pine growing above us." Shu-e explained that once, long ago, a Taoist hermit had built his hut beside them in this forest, and his merit was such that over the centuries the two had come alive. Eventually, however, he had died and the hut became his tomb. A while later, a fox family moved in and took the lonely plant spirits in, treating them like their own daughter, Yue-ching. In time, the parents died, leaving the three adoptive sisters alone in the world.

Yue-ching had wanted to move on after that, but was dismayed to realize that, having not left their home in some time, she was not strong enough to -- she was as trapped as her rooted sisters. For a long time, she had begged her sisters to lure a traveler from the road so she could drain his life-force and leave him in her place, and this winter, when Shu-e was too sleepy to argue otherwise, An-e had finally bent to her sister's will.

"I'm afraid that your brother is trapped now. Please don't blame me. I would never hurt you."

And with that, Wang awoke. It was morning, just as in the dream -- a warm spring morning with green upon the trees and flowers upon the grasses. Where the hut had been was the mound of a small, neglected tomb in the shade of a sweeping pine tree. The pool they had lain beside was now a dark, rocky spring, on the surface of which a was single white lotus blossom. There was no sign of his brother.

Wang searched frantically but the tomb had no entrance, the forest had no tracks. All day he called, all night he wept. He slept for a second night by the pool, but neither Liu nor Shu-e re-appeared, nor did he dream.

Hungry and grieving, he left the tomb in the morning and returned home to Shangdong. He settled down near his brother's farm and lived frugally on what remained of his last payment, supplemented with fees received for training youths of the town to the sword. He drank only once a year -- on the anniversary of his brother's disappearance.

On one of those nights, when my grandfather was a young man, Wang told him the entire story as they sat together in a tavern. Wang confided that he'd wondered ever since what would have happened if he hadn't turned down the dice that last time -- and whether Liu would have survived if he hadn't rolled against a trickster fox. Then as proof of his tale, he unfolded his wallet and showed a dried and pressed lotus blossom.

**Author's Note:**

> Although wuxia stories were popular under the Qing Dynasty, they were banned on the grounds that the individualism of the _xia_ code was subversive and that tales of corrupt officials encouraged antigovernment sentiments. Occasional references in the _Strange Tales_ make it clear, however, that Pu Songling knew some of the conventions of the genre. Thus this lost tale from his original manuscript, which was suppressed by the family member who saw the posthumous collection into print.
> 
> The idea for a poetry competition with secret plant spirits was taken from _Journey to the West_ chapter 56, and the brothers' last assignment was inspired by an incident in Liang Yu-sheng's _White-Haired Demoness_. Other details have no specific inspiration (that I can remember).


End file.
